This Work Is Closed

When my daughter's children were young they attended a Montessori pre-school. I was impressed with the school and their approach to the very young learner.  From the web site of the International Montessori Index I learned that "The basis of Montesssori practice in the classroom is ...individual choice of research and work, and uninterrupted  concentration".    Because the children are encouraged to work alone at their own initiative there is much activity in the school rooms.  The youngest child quickly learns how to follow one of my favorite Montessori directions: This work is closed.  Crayons back in box.  Books back on shelf.  Its time for something else.  And so it is with ernesta-passinggo.  Thank you for reading.  This work is closed.

"What Brought It On?"

Winston Churchill called it his "Black "Dog".  A psychiatrist who knew Churchill said of him "Only a man who knew what it was to discern a gleam of hope in a hopeless situation, whose courage was beyond reason and whose aggressive spirit burned at its fiercest when he was hemmed in and surrounded by enemies, could have given emotional reality to the words of defiance which rallied and sustained us in the menacing summer of 1940". Much the same could have been said about Robin Williams. Those who suffer as they did from depression and it's dark partner anxiety are hemmed in by forces that do not rise from the rational mind. Their demons are not summoned by events of the day.  They linger and taunt and then seek to destroy by cloaking and choking and snuffing out all light. Don't ask "what brought it on?".  Grieve that there is no warning and no cure. Marvel at the courage and strength required to overcome.

My Father

Tomorrow, September 29, 2014 would have been my father's 97th birthday.  He died in the spring of 2001.  He lived much longer than his own father who died at age 54.  My grandfather's name was Frederic Lyman Ballard.  He named his son, my father, Frederic Lyman Ballard Jr.  My  grandfather was still alive when my brother, his first grandchild, was born and was named Frederic Lyman Ballard III.  They followed my great grandfather, in turn into the law. They practiced in the same firm.  When my grandfather died, my father dropped the "Jr" from his name and my brother took it in place of his "III".  When my father died my brother dropped "Jr" too.  He died this year, too young at 72.  As the year turns to 2015, there will be no Frederic Ballard practicing law.  One hundred years have passed . Their combined effort spanned a full century. I loved them all.

To Succeed in School, You Have to Get There

This afternoon I drove several miles behind a school bus.  We were on a country road.  It was never safe to pull around the bus when we were underway.  I was content to sit and watch as the driver and children made their way home.  Each stop offered a short story about America.  Friends disembarked,  animated by their plans for the afternoon.  A father waited as first one, then a second and finally a third child emerged.  Each was embraced.  They walked off tightly, lovingly.  A dog joined the crowd of moms at the end of a cul de sac development. Backpack personalities: "Twelfth Man" for the Seattle Seahawks; Dora the Explorer; Skip Hop Zoo; Disney Frozen Princesses; courageous transparent plastic; day glo orange.  The earliest bus collecting children for school was called a kid hack. It was often just a farm wagon.  Children in the late 1800's bounced along like so many pigs or chickens.  It would be 50 years before young passengers had much comfort and protection from the weather. Until the 1930's school buses remained crude adaptations of trucks and wagons. The best offered roll-up canvas side curtains.  Many remained open to the elements.  In 1939 rural education representatives met at Columbia University and took up school bus design and safety.  The body and chassis manufacturers were there.  Also the paint companies.  Among the 44 agreed upon industry-wide standards was adoption of National School Bus Glossy Yellow, favored for visibility and sharp contrast with black lettering. There is an American School Bus Council.  You can visit their website and learn much more.  It is their assertion that to succeed in school you have to get there, and they offer convincing statistics about school bus efficiency, effectiveness and safety.  For example, 58% of student fatalities during school hours occur when a teen is driving.  23% when an adult drives but only 1% when students are traveling in a school bus. Twenty five million children ride 480,000 busses every day. The bus dropped off three little girls who skipped and hopped away.  Then it turned off, leaving me, and the line of cars behind me free to go. The pageant was over.   I was a little lonely.  

You Could Not Make This Up

There is a (usually) dry lake bed in California's Death Valley called the Racetrack.  Since 19th Century pioneers pushed their tired oxen across this arid land, diaries and travel logs have told of large rocks that appear to have slithered across the sand.  The rocks left trails behind them dredged from the hard pan.  How could this have happened?  What force slid boulders hither and yon leaving no evidence of method but the trail in the sand. Theories have been offered.  Observations and measurements made.  But until last winter, the mystery remained unsolved.  Follow this link to NPR and read how it happened.  There is even a video of a rock on walkabout.  Go to the source if you want to know more.  The research is documented in PLOS ONE, a free-access journal for peer-reviewed work.

I Have Not Looked At The Videos

I have not looked, but I have obsessed about the events.  I am a mother. James Foley and Steven Sotloff were the same age as my children. Could I bear it?  Could I watch.   Could I ever resume my own life?  Are these ISIS fighters the cruelest men who have walked the earth.  Beheading the enemy, killing babies and raping women is not new. Does the video recording make the act more cruel, or is reality-barbarism simply more accessible? From 1206 until his death on August 18, 1227 Genghis Khan ruled over what became the largest contiguous empire in history.  What is now China, Korea, the Caucasus, Central Asia, and substantial portions of Eastern Europe were conquered during his reign, and the reigns of his sons.  The Mongol Empire was forged through ruthless, wholesale slaughter - no doubt using the same barbaric acts we are now witnessing.  For Genghis Kahn, the driving force was economic power.  He introduced uniform script and writing to advance trade along the "Silk Road".  He promoted those who performed well.  He encouraged religious tolerance.  Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi and his ISIS force are driven by ideology.  Where barbarism is concerned, is this a distinction without a difference?

Remembering the Dead

I am at a loss for words.  On Sunday, the memorial mass for slain journalist James Foley took place in his home town.  A letter of condolence sent by Pope Francis was read.  The congressional delegation representing New Hampshire sat with the Governor.  The President chose not to send a representative.  On Thursday of the previous week Major General Harold J. Greene was buried with full military honors at Arlington National Cemetery.  General Greene was serving in Afghanistan.  He was shot at close range by a terrorist.  Hundreds of people joined his family at the funeral.  His wife, retired Army colonel Susan Myers, his son Army First Lt. Matthew Greene, and his daughter Amelia held hands.  Lt. Greene supported General Greene's father. The President chose not to send a representative.  Today Michael Brown was remembered in a funeral.  Brown was shot and killed in an altercation with a police officer.  President Obama sent three representatives.  The Brown funeral will have been covered extensively by the press.  General Greene's honor deserves the same.  Here is a video.  You may wish to stand and salute.

Technical Upgrade

When I started this blog very few read on a hand held device.  Today, not so.   Imbedded videos do not play on such devices.  I have learned how to insert videos in a different way so that they can be viewed on tablets and smart phones.  Here is one of my favorite videos, going viral right now.

Man Hug

From the "Urban Dictionary": A handshake that transitions into a hug-like, semi-embrace that lasts no more than one second and may be accompanied by a firm slap on the back. An acceptable way for one guy to show appreciation for another male friend.

Verdi  was way ahead of his time.  In his epic masterpiece, "Don Carlo" he provides the tenor and baritone leads a magnificent duet in which a Man Hug is mandatory.  The men are Spanish noblemen.   They are acknowledging their bond and pledging themselves to liberate the oppressed people of Flanders.  Their commitment is dangerous and treasonous.  The oppressor is their own king, Phillip of Spain.  Carlo, the tenor, on the right in the video, is the king's son.  This clip is drama at its best.


 

Snake in the Grass

We live on the shore of a very small lake - really more of a pond.  One of the features of our shoreline is garter snakes.  These beautiful creatures rustle through the tall grass and swim quickly away as I approach.  They have a dark body with three stripes - most often yellow although green, blue, red and orange are not unusual.  The little boys in our neighborhood search for garter snakes in a nearby vacant lot.  Cats sometimes carry them home.  I know that many people do not welcome snakes in their grass, but I do.  Here is a web site from the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife that will tell you all about our snakes.  If you live in another state, check your browser for snake information.

Israel

Israel is getting some bad press.   My mind is clear.  A country has a right to defend against attack.  Death and destruction will be a consequence of any path Israel chooses.  Standing down in the face of an enemy such as Hamas is a certain death sentence for her people.  Attacking with the intent to destroy Hamas' military capability is a certain death sentence for some Palestinian civilians.  Hamas declares their intent to destroy Israel and all Israelis.  I'm in for Israel.  

To Save a Forest Harvest a Tree

I visited the stump of a large maple tree today.  Yesterday I and others in our neighborhood watched as men came with chain saws and pulleys and climbing spikes and cut the tree down, limb by limb.  They were careful to spare the houses on either side.  The tree had rot in its trunk.  It was in danger of falling.   My husband and I made much of our living managing timber harvest and the manufacture of wood products.  I was sad to see the maple go and sadder for those who enjoyed its shade.  The maple's job was ornamental, part of a prized landscape.  The trees of our careers had different jobs.  They were part of working forests - grown for the value in their fiber.  While growing fiber, the trees in a working forest provide other benefits. The forests offer shelter for species of all kind.  Their bogs and marshes filter water.  Their shade keeps streams cool for fish.  A working forest consumes carbon dioxide through photosynthesis.  Working forests support a vast economy of jobs and raw material for many products.  Did you know that rayon is made from cellulose?  56% of America's forest land is privately owned.  62% of that private ownership is in small, family farms.  Most privately owned forests are managed carefully and with far more investment and intensity than public lands.  Seedlings are planted after each harvest to assure that the forest will remain.  Setbacks and set-asides are managed to protect rivers, streams, endangered and threatened species and public views.  Here is a link to a US Forest Service publication that tells the story of private forests.  A tree cannot live forever.  Like the maple on our street, it will rot and fall.  But a forest can live forever - as long as there is market value for the wood.  Without a market for wood products, the landowner might be tempted by a higher value use for the land.  Perhaps a housing development or a new highway.  If you want to save a forest, harvest a tree.

Badass People

Yesterday I wrote about the exhilaration of a physical challenge.  As I was writing, my son-in-law was achieving one of his own goals - completion of the 24 mile Crow Pass Crossing.  This was the 30th annual running of this ultimate marathon.  My son-in-law went willingly, eagerly to the starting line.  He has run this race before.  The race is a rugged up and down through a pass in Alaska's Chugach Mountains.  Runners reach the pass after an ascent of 3,888 feet in the first 3.5 miles.  The trail then moves across fields of sharp scree, patches of snow, through a swift glacial river.  It is not for the faint hearted.  There is a registration fee which 150 people pay for the opportunity to climb, scramble, crawl and wade through stunning country.  And there are bears there.  Watch this short video shot yesterday to get an armchair glimpse.  According to my son-in-law the weather was perfect.

Do You Have a Goal?

Last week I talked with a friend about her goal.  As have I, she has passed the time in life that is generally associated with the kind of ambition that requires physical fitness and exertion.  Nevertheless, she recently achieved her goal which was to ride (successfully) a first class horse over big jumps.  I have a goal to earn my black belt in Taekwondo.  My friend and I agreed that pursuing such goals is consuming and that as you approach success each effort is electrifying.  The pounding heart, adrenalin surge, fear and release of a physical challenge are hard to beat for sheer joy.  This is surely the reason why President Bush the elder still jumps out of airplanes.

Sheep Camp - again

Last summer I wrote about sheep camp.  Here is what I said:

Actually, sheep, cattle and duck camp.  Perhaps more accurately, stock herding camp.  There are 35 campers.  I am one.  All adults. We all have at least one dog.  Some have 5 or 6.  One woman brought along six four week old puppies with their mother since they could not be left at home alone.  There are about 140 dogs at the sheep farm where camp is underway.  They are the herding breeds: Heelers, Australian Shepherds, Corgis, Kelpies, Bearded Collies, Shelties, and, in large majority, Border Collies.  The dogs work stock with passion and intensity.  Work is their reward.  Toys and treats play no part in their training.  When it is not their turn, the dogs watch others work.  During the lunch break the dogs sleep in crates and small portable pens.  The humans wear name tags. I am glad that camping is no longer exclusively for the young.  As with children away at summer camp, we are the essence of indulgence.    We may not be cannon-balling off a dock, but when our dog goes out wide around the sheep and fetches them back to us, we are getting the same thrill.

I am back again, with two dogs this year.  We had our kick-off briefing with wine and cheese this evening.  Very much like similar orientations except it took place in a barn.  Again, over 150 dogs waited outside, mostly quiet, some dozing, all focused on the sheep grazing in nearby pastures.  Tomorrow we will divide up by skill and inclination.  We will hear advice, take our turn and despair at our limitations.  Our dogs will be eager, happy and ready to go again.  The sheep will assure that the diagrams we see on white erase boards are mere suggestions of the path forward.  They think for themselves, unlike a golf ball.  They stop to graze, to pee, to turn around and look at the dog.  They turn and run flat out towards the gate to the barn.

We try to anticipate, react, stay calm.  The dogs are in it for the work.  What looks like an escaped-sheep disaster to us is just another long fetch to them.  We humans need to remember that the dogs are not scoring our effort or our results.  They are just looking for another chance to herd sheep.  

Driving Miss Daisy

Last week my husband and I drove to Athena, OR, home of the annual Caldonian Games.  Here is what the organizers say about themselves and their event:

The purpose of the Caledonian Games Association is "to preserve and perpetuate Scottish social manners and customs" as sited in the 1899 Constitution of the Caledonian Society of Umatilla County; and to illuminate the city of Athena and its heritage. Our shared vision is to sponsor the Caledonian Games, a Scottish Heritage Festival with games, events, entertainment, music, food and dancing that are founded in the Scottish tradition."


Put a visit to Athena on your calendar for July 2015. Visit their website.These Games have it all: Gathering of the Scottish Clans, Massed Bands, Sheepdog Trials, Celtic World Music Concerts, Heavyweight Scottish Athletics, Highland Dance Competition, Solo Piping & Drumming, & Scottish Harp. And, strawberry shortcake, sausage rolls and shepherd's pie. The athletic events are not for sissies. For the men, a 16 pound hammer throw, a 56 pound weight toss for best height, a caber toss, and the traditional Braemar Stone (a standing put of a 26 pound stone.) The women compete in the same events, but with lighter objects.

My dog and I competed in the sheepdog trial.  It was 100 degrees.  Unlike those in the Heavyweight Scottish Athletics, I did not have to wear a woolen kilt.  My dog was awesome (as were the others).  Their job was to move sheep and they did it well.  Their reward, a long dip in a water trough.  The games went on in the suffocating heat.  We actually had a very good time.

After our fun in Athena we drove to Idaho to pick up a new dog for my husband.  She was bred on a cattle ranch from working Border Collie stock.  She is one year old.  Her name is Daisy.  We drove home, 700 miles, smiling all the way.

Contribute to Research Right Here at Home

My husband and I have seen an unusual squirrel in our neighborhood.  The squirrel has a white tail, white feet and white on her (or "his" if you prefer) face.  We each have seen her several times within a few blocks of our house.  We live in a retirement community that covers about 250 wooded, landscaped and built up acres.  This morning I saw the white tailed squirrel on the other side of our campus in a small park that was formerly part of a golf course.  As the crow flies this is about 1/2 mile from our house.  I wondered if squirrels usually roam that far afield.  I went on line to learn more about our squirrel.  There I met Rob Nelson, principle investigator of the White and Albino Squirrel Research Initiative.  I recommend that you meet Rob, too.  He offers a video of unusual squirrel sitings and lots of easy to read commentary.  Here's where to find him.  He runs a video production company called "Untamed Science".  He seems to live an untamed life.  I learned that the squirrel in our neighborhood is a Pibald White - neither traditionally colored, nor pure white.  There is a picture of a similar squirrel on his web site.  I was able to submit a summary of my sighting which will add to his research.  His sightings have been predominately in the Eastern United States.  He shows no sightings at all from Washington State where I live.  So.  Look sharp, neighbors.  You might see a Pibald squirrel too.  If you do, send your report to Rob.

The Gingko Next Door

In our community someone has planted a Ginkgo tree.   It is very new, a small thin trunk with the crown standing no more than six feet high.  It is glorious.  The Gingko is native to China.  It is a unique species.  It is unchanged over millennia and is easily recognized in fossils dating back 270 million years.  The leaves are a lovely fan shape.  There is no other plant with similar leaves.  They are vibrant green in summer and a beautiful gold in autumn.  Gingkos come in separate sexes.  The females develop seeds after pollination which are soft and fleshy.  The seeds look lovely but smell rancid when they fall.  Gingkos grow to 100 feet or more.  The house that I grew up in had a stand of Gingkos along a wall beside the garage.  My mother loved them and had a gold pin made in the shape of a Gingko leaf.  I have that pin.  Gingkos grow very slowly.  Another generation, or two will live in our community before this tree reaches its full height.  I'm glad I will have time to watch its beginning.  My thanks to whoever is planning so far ahead! What a gesture of faith in the future.

General Motors and Me

It turns out that I drove a car for five years that had the potentially fatal ignition-switch defect.  Today, nine years after I purchased that car, I read that it is included in the models recalled on Monday.  I read, and reread the article in today's paper. I felt alarmed and angry.   I drove a five year crap shoot.  I will not receive a notice because I traded that car for a newer model 18 months ago.  My new GM car has been recalled twice for safety issues.  First, a warning light in the side view mirror failed.  Then, just this month,  acceleration was subject to possible delays of several seconds.  I don't know how many people have been injured or died because of these safety issues.  I am not one.  But I could have been.  I have been loyal to GM in my recent car buys.  I may not be again.

Perfect Commercial

I enjoy advertising.  It tells me much about the research done by advertisers.  They want to tell a story tailored to their audience.  In my car I listen to channels on Sirius/Xm.  Apparently many truckers also listen to the same channels.  Often I hear ads directed to them.  One of my favorites is for Mobil Delvac's oils for diesel engines.  I know nothing about diesel engines.  But I know that if I had a truck with one,  I would use Mobil Delvac products.  I tried, but cannot find an audio of the ad that I consider the perfect commercial.  It is the voice of Rick Tanner, an independent owner/operator.  He has a wonderful slow southern drawl.  He loves the open road.   He loves the independence.  He had always wanted to drive, and has driven for many years.  After over 1 million miles on his engine, he rebuilt it, himself.  He uses Mobile Delvac.  He testifies that his bearings showed little wear.  He offers his view of life:  all you need for success is a clean engine and ambition.  Indeed.  Works for me.